The Swan and The Lion
by dustydandelion
Summary: Eomer is tasked with escorting a young Princess Lothiriel to Rohan. Lothiriel is betrothed to Prince Theodred and expected to live in Rohan for three years to learn about her new people, their customs, as well as their language before marriage. Lothiriel and Eomer do not make a good first impression upon one another. Will there still be love in their future?
1. Chapter 1

The sun was warm and kissed upon Lothiriel's skin as she stood with her toes buried deep into the soft sand. Her boots were discarded to the side and she stared out at the vast ocean to where it blended into the blue sky. The water was white capping lazily in the distance and her mind was drawn to far away places as she wished for a boat to sail and escape her inevitable doom.

A gentle smile rose to her face as she felt a subtle bump against her shoulder. She turned and rubbed the velvety nose of her older brother's warhorse. Fifiel had a sweet temperament she had always been fond of. Her brother Amrothos was often annoyed with her when she would take Fifiel for a run. He often argued that his warhorse was not fitting for a princess and that she needed to stick to the mares and geldings in the stable.

Fifiel wasn't the only warhorse she would sneak out of the stable to ride. She did it often with her other two brother's though Fifiel was always her favorite. Her father often commented upon her gift of tongue with the horses. She would speak softly to them in Sindarin. They responded to her in a way they would not with any other.

"It is a fine morning, is it not Fifiel?" she asked softly as she rubbed the velvet muzzle. Fifiel snorted in response and his hot breath ruffled her hair.

A great and heavy sigh came over her as she rested her face against the strong and smooth neck. Fifiel stood still and allowed her to take solace and peace in his company. The sound of the ocean gave her comfort though it also brought about a great sadness within her. How long would it be before she could hear the sweet song of the ocean calling to her?

The air was disturbed by the sound of a horn in the distance. Lothiriel felt her heart sink low into her stomach as the sound signalled the closing of her childhood. She had been dreading this day for nearly two years since her father had entered marriage negotiations with the king of Rohan.

It was an unusual arrangement. Lothiriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, was betrothed to Theodred, Crown Prince of Rohan. He was about ten years her senior. What was she to do with a husband who was older than all three of her brothers?

It didn't matter. It was done. Lothiriel was to spend the next three years in Rohan learning about her new people, their customs, as well as their language. She would return to Dol Amroth for a year to prepare for the wedding and then return to Rohan to live the rest of her life.

In four years time she would become queen. Lothiriel had lived the life of a princess. She knew her duty would come calling one day. She knew that one day she may be required to sacrifice a great deal because of her lineage and the family she had been born into.

Queen. It was still hard to wrap her mind around it. She hardly felt worthy to be a princess most days. She felt inadequate when she thought of her duties that would come with being queen. The worst of it lay in the fact that it was Rohan.

Rohan was considered a barbaric country by most of the elite circles in Gondor. While those in Gondor often lives in ancient palaces of cold marble stone, those in Rohan lived in halls carved from wood with a thatched roof. Lothiriel had seen some sketches of Meduseld and the intricate carvings that were in abundance. She had also viewed sketches of the vast plains that they often grazed their magnificent horse herds upon.

The Rider of Rohan were rough, big, and hairy men. There was no grace or finesse to them and they fought with brute force rather than strategy. At least, that was what was whispered whenever they became a topic of conversation.

Lothiriel, even at her age of 18, had been on the receiving end of pity and sympathy by those who whispered behind their hands. The flower of Dol Amroth would wilt in such a cold and windswept country. No one would wish to be the queen of the horse people though they would never say it aloud.

Yet it was Lothiriel's destiny. She would be queen to those unrefined and of poor education. From what she understood most of their history and language was oral. Very little was written down and what had been written down was mostly in Westron. It was a language of storytelling, not one of equations or science.

The horn sounded again and she knew it was announcing the honor guard that had been sent from Rohan to escort her. Lothiriel whispered a few words and Fifiel knelt on his front knees. She was able to slip onto his broad back. She wore a pair of leggings beneath her skirts to preserve some of her modesty. Fifiel rose to his feet and Lothiriel took the moment to turn her face to the sun. She closed her eyes and let herself feel the warmth as she breathed the salty air in. This was the last moment of peace she would have.

Lothiriel knew that she should turn Fifiel back up the narrow trail that would take her up the cliffs to the palace. She could not resist one last mad dash along the beach. She was unaware of a pair of distant eyes upon her as she turned Fifiel and murmured him into a canter before she gave him his head and he lunged into a gallop. She was not aware that these eyes watched her crazy dash down the beach, her dark hair whipping in the wind and her laugh carried up on the distant wind.

By the time Lothiriel had turned Fifiel back she knew she was in trouble. She had allowed herself to linger much longer than she should've and her father would've greeted her honor guard alone by now.

She brought Fifiel back up the trail and slipped from his back when she had come within sight of the outbuildings scattered around the palace. There was no need for a bridle with Fifiel. He would've followed her around as a lost puppy might have.

Lothiriel slipped the great beast into the stable and was overcome in awe at the powerful mounts she spotted. In preparation for her honor guard much of the stable had been cleared to the grazing fields and she couldn't resist taking her time in inspecting some of the famous warhorses.

Fifiel trotted into his box without hesitation and knickered affectionately as she passed him a few sugar cubes. She ran her hands down his legs and checked his hooves to ensure he had not thrown a shoe or stepped upon a stone. Once she was satisfied she moved from the box.

Lothiriel could not resist as she moved down the lines of stalls. She knew that the longer she waited the more angry and disappointed her father would be. It did not seem to matter as she came to stand near a stall that a great war horse stood. He was white with grey flecks speckled into his coat. He had a strong neck with a majestic face.

"Well aren't you a beauty," she murmured and rested her arms over the stall door. The great horse eyed her warily and his nostrils flared as his ears went low.

Lothiriel knew that the Rohirrim trained their horses to be violent towards those that weren't their master. Lothiriel also knew that even a great war horse would still be responsive to Sindarin.

"I am not here to hurt you," she spoke in the elvish tongue. "You are a warrior." She continued to speak in the lilting and sing-song of elvish and smiled as the horse began to relax. She produced a few more sugar cubes and clicked her tongue. She waited with baited breath before the horse walked forward and snapped the sugar between his prickly lips.

"Ah, I knew it, you're a great softie inside," she reached out cautiously and scratched at his forelock.

"I would not be so trusting if I were you young miss," the gruff voice caused Lothiriel to jump and whirl about with a sheepish look on her face. "Firefoot could bite your fingers off in an instant."

Lothiriel had never seen such a bear of a man before. He stood what she reckoned had to be closer to seven feet tall rather than six. His arms were thick and his chest was broad. He had a wild beard that was a rusty golden color matching his hair. She felt the instinct to shrink. It was only her upbringing that kept her chin held high even though she was intimidated by the hulk of the man.

"Yes, I know." She responded and felt Firefoot bump against her shoulder. The man in front of her uncrossed his arms and his eyes crinkled as he let out a large guffaw of a laugh.

"Well I'll be damned," he shook his head. "That is the first time I have ever seen Firefoot yield so easily to a stranger. Who are you, horse whisperer?" he beamed and it was quite contagious that Lothiriel couldn't help but smile stupidly back.

"Late, that is what I am." She procured the last handful of sugar cubes and passed them to Firefoot who did not hesitate in scooping them into his mouth.

"And do you often run around the stables barefoot?" the man asked with a raised brow as he nodded to her bare toes peeking from the skirts around her feet.

Lothiriel flushed and cleared her throat as she tried to appear as though she had known it all along. She must've left her boots down on the beach when she had taken them off to enjoy the sand. She hadn't realized she'd forgotten them until now.

"Surely running about in the skin of one's own foot is not frowned upon in Rohan?" she asked and flicked off an imaginary speck of dirt from her sleeve.

"Certainly not, is it acceptable here in Dol Amroth?" he looked thoroughly amused.

"Never." She grinned wickedly and found herself feeling better. If all the Rohirrim spoke as frankly as this one she did not think it would be so bad to travel in their company. "I really must be going horse master," she dipped into a short curtsy and he gave her a short bow before stepping to the side.

"Good day horse whisperer." He called after her and her laughter floated behind her as she darted out of the stables.


	2. Chapter 2

"You clean up nice," Eothain remarked as he entered the airy and large guest room that the captain of the honor guard had been put up in. "And I must say I'm feeling a bit jealous that you are given such nice accommodations. I'd much rather stay here than in the barracks with the men." He commented in good humor.

"You're more than welcome to switch with me. I'd rather be in the barracks." Eomer grunted in displeasure as he looked about the room. The balcony doors had been left open allowing the sea breeze to dance against the silk curtains. "I don't like it in here." Eomer's hair was damp from his bath. He had been grateful to scrub the days of travel and stink of horse off. He had not been pleased that he now smelled of flowers and a sweet scent he could not identify. This place was far off from the Mark!

"Stop being such a brute," Eothain rolled his eyes. "You should be grateful."

"Grateful? Bah!" Eomer kicked the toe of his boot into the ground. "I should be grateful that I am nothing more than a glorified babysitter to a princess that does not even have the decency to greet her honor guard?" he frowned. "When Theodred first approached me I thought that my years of service and skill were being paid off. I thought-" he grunted in frustration. "I did not think he would send me as his errand boy. I am not the scullery maid sent to fetch a basket of eggs!"

"Of course you're not, and the princess is hardly a basket of eggs." Eothain looked annoyed now. "Theodred trusts you above all others Eomer. You are escorting his bride. There is honor in that." He tried to help Eomer see reason.

"From what I've discovered so far she seems a far cry from a lady. It's insulting Eothain! Did you not see the look in Prince Imrahil's eyes when his daughter was not at his side? The insufferable girl! She's probably nothing more than a spoiled little chit, and she's expected to be our queen!" he shook his head causing his golden hair to unsettle across his shoulders.

"That's hardly fair. You haven't even met her yet." Eothain spoke softly.

"And when I do meet her? Bema, she's a Gondorian Eothain. She's a high ranking Gondorian Lady. She'll be nothing but stiff manners and a powdered face. You know what they really think of us. The only reason this betrothal has happened is to strengthen the tie between Gondor and Rohan. She's hardly more than a child. She's nothing but a bargaining chip." His words were sharp and cutting.

"And you are a hot tempered captain with a very large mouth, but we still respect and follow you," Eothain tried to lighten the mood.

"She probably can't even ride, at least not properly. I've heard that they force their women to ride with both legs slung down one side. I can't even imagine that." Eomer groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Prince Imrahil is known for his breeding herds throughout Gondor. They aren't comparable to a horse of the Mark, but certainly the princess will have some idea." Eothain offered up in hopes of appeasing Eomer.

Eomer opened his mouth but was halted as there was a sharp rap on the door. He snapped his mouth shut and glanced over to Eothain who shrugged.

"Enter!" he called out in his deep baritone voice.

The door opened to reveal a small, though pretty, slip of a girl. She was dressed in fine silks of Dol Amroth blue and a silver swan had been stitched into the bodice. She had to be about a head shorter than Eomer. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in soft curls and her grey eyes were keen and perceptive as they scanned over the two men. Eomer eyes were drawn up to the thin silver crown upon her head and he quickly dipped into a bow.

She offered a pretty curtsy and as she came up Eothain brought his finger to his lips as he stood just behind Eomer.

"Princess Lothiriel," Eomer was startled to see the princess at his door.

"Captain Eomer." Her voice was cool and soft as the sea breeze filtering in.

"And I'm Eothain." Eothain boomed with a laugh as if he had some great joke. The cool reserve cracked and Princess Lothiriel managed a small smile. It disappeared when her eyes fell back to Eomer.

"My father has requested that I escort you to the feast." Her expression moved back to impassivity and her tone reflected her diplomatic upbringing.

A feast had been prepared to celebrate the honor guard who had come to escort her as well as her departing Dol Amroth. Eomer was looking forward to the food and drink that would be at the feast and hoped that he could forget his duties for an evening.

"That is not necessary." Eomer spoke hastily.

"No?" she raised a brow. "Then you are to find your way through the palace of Dol Amroth on your own?"

Eomer felt his neck heat and he cleared his throat feeling a bit awkward. "Ah, no, I suppose you are right." How could he let this little slip of a girl make him feel embarrassed?

"This way," she turned from them and stepped back into the hall. Eomer looked over to Eothain who looked highly amused over the situation.

"And what is that smirk upon your face?" Eomer snapped quietly as him as they moved to exit the room.

"Ah, it is nothing. I am just thinking of the spitfire I met in the stables earlier." Eothain chuckled.

"We're only here for one night, surely you're not thinking to tossing up some Gondorian in the hay sack." At these whispered words Eothain burst out laughing.

"Believe me Eomer, that was not what I was thinking." Eothain moved to wipe a tear from his eye. They stepped into the hall where the princess was waiting with a formal air about her. Eomer mentally groaned as he thought of the journey that would take place with this princess to Rohan.

"Tell me," her voice was cool as it disturbed the air as she guided them down the hall. "Are all the men of Rohan as bred to be as formidable as you are?"

Eomer was taken aback by the bluntness of her words and struggled to regain his thoughts. Bred? Did she think the people of the Mark took as careful measure to their marriages as they did with their breeding lines of their horse herds? It certainly sounded that way. Did she share the popular view among Gondorians that Rohan was full of barbarians? His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth prepared to say something he would likely regret later.

"Prince Theodred wanted to be sure that his betrothed arrived in one piece. He selected the best and most trusted riders." Eothain quickly added before Eomer could say something he would regret.

The princess made a noncommittal noise and fell silent. Eomer did not look down at her and instead chose to take in his surroundings as she took him down marble halls. Dol Amroth had an ancient beauty to it. Eomer could appreciate it though he would never find peace living in such a place. It felt cold and hard; much like the princess at his side.

The distant sound of chatter and laughter grew as they approached the great hall. They entered and there were many tables set about. He spotted his riders congregated at two tables towards the back. Eothain broke away to join them and Eomer stepped forward to join as well. He stopped short as he felt her small and delicate hand upon his arm. He looked down at her.

"Captain, you are to dine at the head table with my family and I. It is a great honor." Her words were stiff and Eomer suddenly found himself dreading this feast. "This way," she released his arm and with one longing glance over his shoulder at his men he followed her up to the grand table where Prince Imrahil and his sons sat. There were other lords and ladies he did not recognize on either ends of the table. Lothiriel guided him to sit next to her.

Eomer found himself relaxing after the feast had begun and he was able to take deep drinks of the sweet wine Dol Amroth was known for. Eomer would have much preferred ale but when there was none to be had he would take the wine.

The princess was quiet at his side and on his other side Prince Amrothos regaled him with stories of Corsairs raiding the coast. Eomer very nearly forgot about the princess and was even laughing with Prince Amrothos when she spoke and drew his attention back to her.

"How far do you expect we will travel during the day?" this question caught him off guard as he had not been anticipating it. He had to choke back a bite of food for which Amrothos thumped his back. He turned to look at the princess. He was startled only so much as she had not said a word this entire meal. Her expression was innocent but there was something tucked in the corner of her eye. She blinked and it was gone before he could examine it.

"I would like for us to arrive to Edoras as quickly as we are able. The roads are not always safe. We shall be traveling as close to sun up and sundown as we possibly can." He managed to say once his throat was clear.

Lothiriel's expression turned sour and she let out a forlorn sigh. "Such terrible hours of traveling? I suppose it shall not be too difficult riding in a wagon." She set her fork down and looked put out.

Eomer's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Wagon?"

"You cannot possibly expect me to ride the whole way." She sounded aghast.

"My lady, I am sorry if there was any confusion, but there is not enough time or space in our journey for you to ride in a wagon. Surely your father discussed with you that you would be riding." Eomer could not wrap his mind around the idea of traveling at the slow pace of a wagon. It would leave them far to vulnerable to an attack.

"I had not thought he was serious." She pouted and Eomer had to use a great measure of self control to not roll his eyes.

This was indeed looking to be more and more like a babysitting errand rather than escorting his cousin's bride.

"You cannot possibly expect me to ride one of those great war horses, I would be terribly afraid. I am not a very good rider, surely I would be thrown and killed!" her pitch raised a little and Eomer sent a silent prayer to be granted patience.

"No, of course you are not expected to ride a war horse-"

"Then you have a delightful pony I may ride?" she asked hopefully.

"P-pony?" Eomer choked on the word.

"Yes, I suppose I could handle the journey upon the back of a pony, or perhaps a small palfrey?" she batted her lashes in a manner which Eomer supposed worked upon those of a lesser constitution. Eomer would not be so easily swayed. Next to him he heard snickering at his side and shot a sharp glare to Amrothos.

"What is so amusing?" he barked.

"Oh yes, my sister is a terrible rider," Amrothos' voice was laced in sarcasm and Eomer missed the sharp look that the princess sent her brother. It only caused Amrothos to break into full laughter drawing several eyes their way. Eomer chose to ignore the young prince. Perhaps he had a snap in his sanity.

"Princess," he began slowly and looked back to the delicate flower at his side. How would she ever survive living in the harsh land of the Mark? "You shall not be thrown from a horse, and we have not provided a pony for you. Prince Theodred picked out a mare with a very mild temperament for this journey with you in mind. You will have nothing to fear."

There was a flash of something he couldn't identify in her eyes. It was too brief. If he tried to put a name to it perhaps excitement, but it did not fit with the words she had spoken to him.

"When are we to depart on the morrow Captain?" the high pitch of her voice had reverted to normal which he was grateful for.

"As soon as the dawn breaks." Eomer spoke reluctantly.

"You expect me to be up before the sun?" her voice raised in pitch again as there was an edge of indignation in her voice. At this question Amrothos fully lost his control and had to excuse himself from the table to regain his composure.

"Is your brother well?" he failed to answer her question. It was unfortunate that Eomer was not aware that the youngest prince was fond of mischief or he would have known something to be off in the line of conversation between him and Lothiriel.

Lothiriel had turned her attention back to her food and feigned not having heard him. Eomer's brow creased into a frown and he stared at the top of her pretty dark head.

The remainder of the feast went without anymore words spoken between him and the princess. She did not attempt to engage him in conversation and Eomer felt he already had a good handle on the young woman. He did not want to get any more aggravated than he was. He was grateful when the feast was brought to a close and he could retreat to the quiet of his airy chambers.

"Until dawn," she gave him a polite curtsy before she gave him a daring look he could not interpret.

"Good night my lady," he bowed in return and watched as she disappeared.

Eomer had made it back to his chambers with fairly good success only having found himself lost twice. Once inside he moved to the wash basin and splashed his face with cool water. There was a knock upon his door and Eothain entered with a highly amused expression upon his face.

"And how was it to keep such royal company through an entire feast?" Eothain couldn't help but goad him.

"Bema give me strength!" Eomer groaned. "Why couldn't Theodred have sent someone else? Why did it have to be me? A pony Eothain! She requested a pony when she realized she would not be traveling by wagon." He spat it as if it were an insult.

"Eomer," Eothain began carefully, "can I give you a piece of advice?" Eomer frowned but said nothing. "Don't judge the young princess yet. You may find yourself the fool if you do."

"What are you going on about?" Eomer asked baffled.

"I'm just saying you can't judge a book by its cover," Eothain held his hands up in defeat.

"We have an early start tomorrow Eothain, go get some rest." Eomer spoke more sharply than he meant to.


	3. Chapter 3

Lothiriel was up before the sky had begun to turn grey signalling the shift from night into day. She sat at the edge of her bed once she had changed. This was the last time she would be in her room for a long time. The double doors to her balcony were wide open and she took a moment to close her eyes and savor the lulling sound of the ocean.

The peace that had come into her heart was disturbed as her mind drifted back to the night before and the arrogant and insufferable captain who was charged with her protection. Lothiriel was frustrated and angry with him. She knew that eavesdropping was frowned upon in most societies and for a princess to eavesdrop was highly improper. She had been unable to help herself when she had heard the muffled words coming in through the door when she had been sent to guide Captain Eomer to the feast.

Spoiled little chit indeed! He had formed his opinion of her without having met her. She had decided to give him exactly what he was expecting. She had not enjoyed a feast quite so much and had appreciated that Amrothos had not given her away.

Lothiriel let a little serene smile come upon her face. She was not looking forward to the days traveling upon the road until they arrived at Edoras. It did seem a bit more bearable knowing she would be able to get under the good captain's skin.

She had decided to linger and take her time even though she was itching to get started. As much as she would miss her home she did not like being idle and would rather face this new challenge head on then linger behind.

She moved to the balcony and leaned against the stone as she watched the sky change from grey to purple, then purple to pink, and finally the sun broke the horizon and dawn had arrived. She was purposeful in taking her time as she left her room and took the lazy track down to the stable yard.

She heard the chaos before she saw it. The sound of hooves stamping impatiently against the ground, the rough and guttural sounds of Rohirric as the men shifted as restlessly as their mounts. Lothiriel allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sounds knowing they were all waiting upon her. Surely this wasn't a surprise for Captain Eomer? A princess such as herself was likely to struggle getting up in the early hours of the morning.

As Lothiriel rounded the corner and caught the eye of Eomer she knew that he was greatly displeased and the frown tucked into the corner of his mouth and the way he had his arms crossed over his chest proved her point. He had expected her to do this.

"Good morning Princess," he spoke stiffly as she approached. He eyed her over and looked a bit relieved so see the leggings beneath her split skirts. At least now she didn't appear totally incompetent.

"Good morning Captain." She offered a sweet smile before eyeing the horses around her. They were impressive. She would had to admire them in such a number at a later point. Eomer glanced over his shoulder and barked an order in Rohirric. Lothiriel waited patiently before Eothain appeared leading a great chestnut. The mare was large and muscled and responded to her master's commands without hesitation.

"Good morning Princess Lothiriel," Eothain greeted her with enthusiasm and she responded with a genuine smile.

"Good morning Master Eothain," she spoke open and friendly which caused Eomer to glance between the two as if he was missing out on some secret.

"This is Frealaf," he patted the muscled neck. "She has as smooth a gait as any horse I have known and will do well in getting you safely to Edoras."

Even with Lothiriel's determination to be as difficult and opposing as possible for Eomer she was unable to do anything but look at the great mare in awe and respect.

"She's beautiful," she murmured.

"It is time we get on the road, we're already losing the morning sun," Eomer spoke gruffly looking sour and in a foul mood.

"And am I expected to mount this giant of a beast?" she snapped the question sharply to Eomer's back as he had turned. He had to take a cleansing breath before turning back to her.

Without time to react Lothiriel felt a pair of large and strong hands around her waist and she was lifted up quickly and deposited on the broad back. The air had been sucked out of her lungs from the sudden movement and she felt a slight dizziness to be disoriented so quickly.

"We're moving out!" Eomer moved to where Firefoot was saddled and waiting.

Lothiriel glowered at his back but could not address him as he mounted and angled himself towards the front of the traveling party. Lothiriel had already given her goodbyes to her family the night before. She had parted with hugs and words of encouragement.

Lothiriel felt oddly lonely as the honor guard began to ride out. Eomer set the pace to a quick walk and Lothiriel was riding at the center of the group. She glanced over her shoulder as they left the stable yard, and then rode through the large gates.

This was not what she had expected. It felt strange. She was leaving herself behind and only her body was riding forward. It struck her hard that she was now along among a group of men she did not know. She thought it was ridiculous that her father would trust them so quickly without sending at least a pair of guards with her. Lothiriel would feel immensely better to have a pair of Swan knights at her side among the blonde heads surrounding her.

Her father had explained it was part of the arrangement. As painful as it was to surrender his daughter, it was the only way she could immerse herself in her new culture.

The sun was warm and pleasant upon her back as they wound their way down the well traveled road. On the left side cliffs dropped down to the ocean and on the right were the orchards and vineyards that Dol Amroth was famous for. Lothiriel took in the sights around her feeling a mixture of longing and remorse knowing that these sights were some of the last she would see of them for a long time.

"Are you well my lady?" Eothain had dropped back from where he was riding beside Eomer and brought his stallion in step with her.

"It's odd," she said after a moment of thinking. "I knew this day would be coming, but now that it's here I feel…" she searched for the right word before shrugging. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel. I do not feel ready or prepared." She finally admitted honestly.

"I hope it it not too bold of me to say, but I think you are very brave to leave your home and family behind." Eothain smiled at her and she scoffed.

"I do not think it is bravery when it's a duty you're born too."

"But many men and women have been born to a duty that they have shirked or abandoned. I have an impression that if you did not want to do something, then you would not do it my lady." He gave his booming laugh and Lothiriel couldn't help but laugh in response. It was infectious and Eothain's good attitude was starting to lift her out of her somber one.

Lothiriel was pleased as their journey progressed that Eothain chose to keep her company more often than not. Occasionally he would move back up to where Eomer was riding and exchange words before ducking back to her side. Every so often she would catch Eomer's dark gaze as he would glance over his shoulder at them.

"Eothain, may I ask you a question?" the sun was reaching its zenith in the sky and it wouldn't be much longer before they would stop for a rest and to eat.

"Anything my lady," he smiled.

"Is your captain always so… ill mannered," she expressed after a moment of thinking.

"Ah, yes," Eothain chuckled. "Our young captain is a man of passion and feeling. I've often reminded him to try and think before he reacts or takes action. So far he has not taken my advice to heart, but he is a good man. I have known him since he joined his first eored. He has a talent for leadership. I believe he will do great things one day." Eothain spoke with a great deal of admiration for the younger man. Lothiriel wasn't sure how much older Eothain was than Eomer, both men were of a frightening countenance to her.

"Trust me my lady, once you have found a friend in Eomer, he is loyal to a fault. He is the sort of man that would give you the clothes off his own back to shelter you against a storm." He nodded as he was caught in his thoughts. "Try and be patient with him, he is hot tempered at times, but he will be your kin when you have married Theodred."

This elicited a sigh out of Lothiriel. The next few years looked short indeed when she could see her wedding day looming at the end.

Their conversation moved into lighter territory as she began to ask Eothain and endless stream of questions involving Rohan, its customs, and its people. The signal to stop for a rest was given and Eomer angled Firefoot back over to them. Eothain was smiling in good humor and Lothiriel looked a bit sheepish.

"We'll rest here for now." Eomer spoke in a clipped tone before glancing between the two. "What?" he asked feelings as though he had missed something.

"I was merely asking Princess Lothiriel if she was familiar with the saying curiosity killed the cat. I cannot think of another time I have been assaulted by so many questions in one go."

Lothiriel flushed and looked down. "There is not much written about Rohan," she murmured back in her defense. As her eyes were upon her riding gloves as she twisted the reins in her hands she missed the looked exchanged between Eothain and Eomer.

"It would be best you dismounted Princess Lothiriel." Eomer began stiffly as he dismounted Firefoot. He moved to her side and she looked down at him with alarm.

"What are you doing?" she asked with wide eyes. Without a word he reached up and grabbed her by the waist before he deposited her on the ground.

Lothiriel's cheeks bloomed red in indignation. "How dare you man handle me!" she shot out hotly.

"It's a long way to the ground, and we have no mounting blocks with us. You're welcome," he grunted and turned his back to her.

Lothiriel's mouth dropped open in her utter shock. "I am a princess of the realm of Gondor! You cannot think to put your hands on me again without express permission to do so!" she was ruffled and angry to be treated as a child.

"Forgive me princess," Eomer had turned back to face her with a barely concealed sneer. "Trust me, having my hands upon you is the last thing on my mind, but rest assured, if it were my intent you would likely not be putting up much protest." Without another word he turned on his heel, grabbed Firefoots reins, and marched away.

Lothiriel released a strangled sound and her hands fisted at her side. She had three older brothers and as much as they wanted to shelter her from certain aspects of life she had observed enough to know enough.

Lothiriel was speechless and stood there feeling dumb for a moment. The rest of the honor guard had dismounted and was allowing their mounts to graze upon the grass as they retrieved food from their saddle bags.

Eothain sighed next to her. It seemed Eomer's foul manner had not improved and if he wasn't careful the princess would demand to return to her people and the betrothal would be in shambles.

"He can't-" she finally began to attempt to put a thought together. It was still a struggle and she shook her head. No one had ever treated her so callously before. She didn't know what to make of it.

"You're right my lady, he shouldn't," he bowed to her. "Allow me to offer an apology on his behalf. I will have a word with him." Eothain left her to her own devices and strode away.

Lothiriel felt the despair start to creep in again. Was this to be her reception by her new people? Eothain was pleasant, Eomer was not.


	4. Chapter 4

Eomer was currently sitting on a rock that was jutting out of the ground munching on an apple with a dark look of thunder on his face when Eothain approached him. Eomer was not in the mood for whatever words of wisdom Eothain had to pass onto him but knew there was no escape.

"How much of an idiot are you?" Eothain asked with a frown.

"I beg your pardon?" Eomer had not expected that question.

"You owe Princess Lothiriel an apology." Eothain crossed his arms. "I don't care how upset you are that Theodred assigned you as captain of this guard. You should feel honored he trusts you to complete this task. That young woman has just left the only life she has ever known and is being treated no better than a serving wench. She is a princess, and she will be your queen Eomer. You cannot go making an enemy out of her now." Eothain's words were to the point.

Eomer groaned. When Theodred had first approached him he had believed he was finally getting an advancement. He felt he had worked hard over the past few years to prove his mettle and ability to lead. He felt ready to take on a new challenge.

It had felt like an insult to be made captain of an honor guard and then booted out of Rohan to fetch a young princess who knew nothing of their customs or people. Eomer was fortunate that Theodred was patient and had not reprimanded him harshly for his foul response to his given task.

"And whatever misconceptions you have already bogging down in your brain, get rid of them." Eothain left Eomer at that point to think.

Eomer sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was not entirely fair that he let his temper get in the way of treating Lothiriel with the respect that her station demanded. He hated apologies, but he also knew that he had been wrong. He stood to his feet and stretched not looking forward to this next conversation as he wound his way around the men and horses back to where he had deposited the princess unceremoniously on the ground.

She was standing stiffly looking uncomfortable and unsure. Eomer was still holding some hard jerky in his hand and when she turned around at his approach he offered it to her. She glanced down at the offering skeptically and kept her hands at her sides.

"It's not going to eat you, you are supposed to eat it." He felt his irritation rise again. What was it about this princess that got under his skin so easily? "It's jerky." He added for extra clarification.

"I know what jerky is," she narrowed her eyes at him but still refused to take it.

Eomer shrugged and dropped his outstretched hand back to his side. If she didn't want to eat he wasn't going to force her.

"What do you want?" she asked warily with an edge of annoyance in her tone.

"I came to apologize," Eomer spoke stiffly reminding himself of what Eothain had said. This was an apology, not an argument.

"Good." The simple word ruffled Eomer. He gritted his teeth.

"I should not have treated you as I did, nor should I have said such things to you. I am sorry, and it shall not happen again." Eomer was impressed with his own ability to get the words out without cringing.

"Oh." She sounded surprised as though she hadn't expected him to offer a genuine apology. "Oh, well thank you." She looked unsettled.

"Are you ready to move on my lady?" he asked and she looked a little lost. The wide expression of her eyes was a reminder to him that she was still young and he felt some compassion for her. "If you would like to continue to rest we shall, but let me remind you we have much ground still to cover today."

"Yes, yes of course. We may continue." She nodded her head before she glanced over her shoulder at Frealaf.

"Would you like assistance in mounting?" he asked her quietly seeing the hesitation on her face.

"Yes." Her voice was small.

Eomer whistled and Frealaf responded by trotting over. This time Eomer laced his fingers together before bending down and offering her the leg up. She accepted with a grateful nod and in a fluid motion she was mounted once more. Eomer could not help but be impressed at the ease she had in mounting. Now that his temper had cooled he took a quick note that the princess looked natural and at ease in the saddle. It made him wonder over their conversation during the feast.

The order to mount up was given. The men were quick an efficient and soon their traveling party had returned to the dusty road and they were on their way. Eomer could feel the sweat starting to gather at the base of his neck as they were reaching the hottest part of the day. As they had the next handful of days to travel through the realm of Gondor the heat would get uncomfortable. He would much rather be back in the Mark where the winds always kept the heat at bay.

Eomer managed to find himself relaxing and enjoying the ride. He chatted amiably with the men around him and every once in awhile would glance over his shoulder. It seemed Eothain never wavered from the princess's side for long and it made him wonder. Eothain was a large brute of a man, but as he had three younger sisters it seemed he was more in tune with the fairer sex.

Dusk had begun to fall when Eomer decided they would halt for the night. The men dismounted and quickly moved about to make camp. Eomer walked over to where Lothiriel had dismounted a bit awkwardly. He had to admire her spirit as she stood straight when she turned to face him even though he could see the tension in her shoulders.

"I am sorry we do not have better means for a princess upon the road, but we have a sturdy tent for your use. Once the fires are going a meal will be cooked up. You are welcome to relax." He bowed and departed from her side before she could respond as he was afraid they might end up in an argument.

The fires were crackling merrily and a hot stew had been thrown together. On their journey to Dol Amroth they had survived on simple rations. Now that they had a young woman in their party they were trying to be a little accommodating.

"I think I shall retire for the night." The princess looked awkward and stiff as she stood next to the fire Eomer and Eothain were around.

Eothain stood to his feet and gave a very graceful and exaggerated bow. "Good night my lady, sleep well," he smiled good naturedly and she responded with a soft laugh and a deep curtsy of her own before she disappeared the short distance to her tent and behind the flap.

"Well aren't you both two peas in a pod," Eomer frowned as Eothain settled back down on the smooth rock he had claimed.

"Let me ask you this," Eothain scratched the back of his neck. "We have been upon our saddles for the greater portion of the day. The sun was uncomfortably hot in the afternoon. The roads are dusty and I can guarantee we are not a flowery smelling lot now." Eomer gave him a look to get to the point. "If your princess was half the delicate and spoiled flower you believe her to be, would she not have complained the entire day?"

Eomer's brow furrowed and a frown came upon his face. As he thought it over he had to give the princess credit where it was due. She had not let an ounce of complaint pass through her lips. When she had been in the company of Eothain she had appeared happy and content and it was easily seen that she had charmed Eothain.

"No, I suppose not." He admitted.

"And your princess who you claimed to whine just last night over having to ride upon such a great beast of burden," he stressed the words remembering all too clearly how aggravated Eomer had been early that morning as they waited for the princess's arrival. "I think she may have deceived you a bit in regards to her skills. It's true Frealaf would not hurt a flea, but I have also never seen Frealaf more eager to respond to a rider."

Eomer sighed. "Are you sure you're not the one she's betrothed to? You're extolling her virtues quite convincingly." Eomer grumbled and Eothain released his booming laugh and slapped Eomer on the back.

"Trust me Eomer, any man with half of his wit would have staked their claim on this princess if she were available." He chortled. "As it stands, I can see her as my queen." He nodded satisfied.

Eothain's words had given Eomer a great deal to think over. After most of the men had retired on whatever spot of ground they could find that was comfortable, Eomer felt restless. After a long day in the saddle he should have succumbed to his own exhaustion. As it was he was walking around the edge of their camp to where they had kept the horses.

One activity had always soothed his troubled mind. The moon was out near to its fullness and left him plenty of light to maneuver his way without waking or disturbing any of the others.

At first he heard it.

Eomer stopped and stilled his breathing. It was the softest sound he had heard and a part of him wondered what mysterious creature of the night could produce such a hauntingly beautiful sound.

He did not know the words. He recognized them for what they were. They were the musical and lilting words of the elves. It seemed impossible for an elf to be traveling in Gondor. Without thinking his eyes had closed and he was captivated by the song.

It sounded sad. He felt something stir within him and his eyes snapped open. Whoever was singing it sounded to be in terrible sorrow. Eomer would not stand for this!

He continued to walk, he was following the sound. It was coming from where the horses were clustered together. He shifted around them speaking softly in Rohirric.

He was arrested by the sight he discovered and his breath was stolen from his throat. The light of the moon fell upon her bathing her in ethereal light making her appear as though she were not real. Her hair that had been braided tightly for the day's journey had been undone and fell in a soft cascade down her back. She was an enchanting sight and even though Eomer knew her to be very young she suddenly seemed to him to be wiser beyond her years.

She had not noticed his arrival and had continued her song. It surprised him as his eyes were drawn to the object at her side and he blanched.

Firefoot was the most ill tempered horse that had ever been born in the Mark. It served his purpose. Firefoot was a war horse. His foul temper had proved to save the skin off Eomer's back more than once. If one thing could have been said about Firefoot, it was that he did not welcome the touch of a stranger.

Yet the proof stood before him as Lothiriel was standing very close to Firefoot as she sang. Firefoot had his head resting over her shoulder and if Eomer had to describe what he say, it was that Firefoot appeared content.

Firefoot was never content.

It seemed even his own most trusted steed was determined to betray him. Eomer was beginning to realize that perhaps he was the fool here. This young princess from the southern kingdom of Gondor had charmed his right hand man as well as his horse. What had he missed?

Firefoot perked up when he realized his master had appeared and knickered affectionately. This caused Lothiriel to whirl around with a shocked expression upon her face. Her pale skin grew white as she saw who the intruder was and Eomer was tempted to chuckle. She looked as guilty as he or Eowyn whenever they had been caught stealing sweets from the kitchen.

"A Rohirric war horse is not a lap dog Princess." His words were sterner than he meant them to be.

"Are you suggesting he would have trampled me?" she arched her brow in a challenging way. Eomer wasn't sure what it was, but he felt something shift. It was confusing and so he settled for an emotion he was familiar with around her.

"You are lucky to have all your fingers still intact madam," he spoke coolly.

"You are ridiculous. Yes, a Rohirric war horse is dangerous, but I do not think for one moment that he would harm me." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"You are arrogant if you think that. Firefoot is foul tempered and-"

"Much like his master?" she interjected with a small quirk of her lips.

"You-" he leveled a finger at her feeling angry and ruffled.

Firefoot took a defensive step forward and flattened his ears in a threat. Eomer balked at the sudden change in Firefoot's behavior. He quickly dropped his accusing finger and ran a hand through his dusty hair.

"It seems even my horse is determined to like you where I have not." He sighed in defeat before looking up to meet her stare. Her expression was guarded though he could see she was analyzing him. She was trying to figure him out.

"You lied." It was his turn to cross his arms over his chest.

"Lied? What did I lie about?" it infuriated him that she looked amused rather than affronted.

"You said you couldn't ride well."

"I said nothing of the sort!" she countered.

"Yes, you did." He shot back hotly.

"No, I did not. What I said was I was sure to be thrown from one of your horses." She smirked. Eomer frowned.

"You ride perfectly well."

"I know." She smiled.

"You would not have been thrown from your horse."

"I know." Her smile grew wider and Eomer had the silly feeling that he was being left out from some grand joke.

"I did not lie." She pressed again. "You assumed I could not." It was true. He had made that assumption even before her ridiculous request during the feast.

"I-" he paused. "You're right, I did." He sighed. "I'm sorry, it seems I have misjudged you on several accounts."

"Several accounts?"

"What I mean-" he began starting to feel flustered. Flustered? When had Eomer ever felt flustered before in his life?

"Would you like to begin again?" her soft question caught him off guard.

"Begin again?" he asked as she took two steps towards him.

"Yes, only this time you do not make assumptions based upon my age or station, and I shall endeavor to not think of you as a brute." Her eyes twinkled in the pale moonlight and he was struck dumb for a moment.

Lothiriel curtsied deeply in front of him before rising. "I am Princess Lothiriel of Dol Amroth." She quirked half a smile for him.

Eomer blinked once, then twice, and then realized what she was doing. He shook his head before he bowed low before her and straightened himself to his full high. "I am Captain Eomer Eomundson."


End file.
